


They Have to Take You In

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-18
Updated: 2006-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1632788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So Shell and Nessarose and I lived the lives of gypsy children, slopping around from Quadling settlement to settlement with Nanny and our father, Frex."</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Have to Take You In

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rehab

 

 

Frex was useless the first few days after his wife's death, of course, and then the first few days turned into the first few weeks, and those in turn became the first few months. Elphaba was always rather inclined, in fact, to suspect that he'd be useless forever, though Nessa would hear no such thing and she'd certainly not trouble her by suggesting it.

Even when her own mourning was over, Nessa was still inclined to empathize with her father's grief, or at least she made a good enough show of it. Even at thirteen, she was a more compassionate creature than any other in the family.

She needed Elphie more in those few days -- Nessa did, that is. Nanny had her hands full with Shell, Frex being useless enough, though a poor Quadling wretch was eventually brought in to serve as wet-nurse in exchange for a roof over her head and food.

*

Frex was angry with Nessarose only once, and this is how it happened.

Since before they went to Quadling country, since before they could remember, Elphaba had a looking-glass. She thought sometimes she could see things in it, but was generally certain it was the angle or too little sleep. It was well-made, a testament to its long-dead maker's skill at his craft, and as well to the strange relationship he had shared with her parents but that was neither here nor there. It was ultimately just a trinket, albeit one of the few either of the girls (but especially Elphaba) enjoyed during their respective missionary childhoods.

Nessa broke it.

It was an accident, of course; no one saw it happen but how could it be anything else? The glass was broken all the same, though, and Frex stared at it for a few moments when he heard the tinkly crash, and then he flew into such a rage as Elphaba had never seen before. Even Nanny couldn't redirect or diffuse his anger, which was more than enough to convince Elphaba not to try.

At last, as suddenly as the rage had begun, it stopped, and Father left. Shell was crying and Nanny was torn between him and Nessa. Little children being unpredictably wet, Elphaba made the decision by kneeling down with a broom to sweep up the shards before her sister. Nanny went to Shell, and Nessa sat in silence -- stunned or shamed, Elphaba couldn't tell and didn't look too closely to learn -- while Elphaba swept away the last evidence of the recent horrors.

"Come on," she said at last, and helped -- hauled, more like, the article in question being still lost in a miserable stupor -- Nessarose back to her feet. "You're all right, let's finish supper and maybe it'll calm Shell a bit."

"Oh, Elphaba!" Nessa cried suddenly, though Elphaba wasn't sure whether her misery was a response to their father's outburst or the lack of sisterly misery. Whatever it was, the cry was followed by cry _ing_ , Nessa's face against Elphie's neck. The tears burned Elphaba's skin, and even in spite of herself, Elphie couldn't help it. She hugged her sister close, and stroked her hair.

Their father gave a trinket to Nessa the next day, to make up his outburst the night before, they both guessed: another looking-glass. Elphaba learned, from Nanny, that the first had been given her by that Turtle Heart, and she understood as well that he had been Mother and Father's lover and the first of Father's many martyrs. It was something to do with psychology, she supposed; they were two of the people he loved most -- or perhaps they were _the_ two people he loved most, the question being whether Mother or Turtle Heart had been dearer -- and likely he felt that he was somehow responsible for some mess or other where Turtle Heart was concerned (apparent enough already, with their being here in Quadling Country). At any rate, there was a great deal of guilt and misery lingering, and that was why he gave the gift to Nessa though in fact _she_ had broken something of _Elphaba's_.

Well, she was prettier, anyway, so there would be more use in a looking-glass for Nessa. Even with this in mind, though, Elphaba always tried to make sure she wasn't the one who had to hold it up for Nessa, nor the one who had to help her with whatever she wanted done.

*

"It must be terribly inconvenient for you," Elphaba said a few days after her sixteenth birthday, "to have Shell squalling while you're trying to pray."

"Faith will always endure trials," Nessa said.

"Hmm," said Elphaba. "I thought that was martyrdom."

Nessa set her foot wrong, and toppled. Elphaba briefly considered not catching her, but of course she did.

*

Father was only really proud of Elphaba once, and that was when she had a long argument with him about the nature of Lurlinemas, and the importance of the continued celebration thereof. This was just after she had got her letter from Shiz, the which, interestingly enough, he had shown only the most cursory excitement over -- barely more than what could be considered his obligation as a father, in fact. Elphaba had supposed the cost could hardly be heartening for a minister, even given the inheritance due her from her mother's side, but he had been the one who had insisted upon an education for them, so there they were.

Anyway, Elphaba's insistence that there was a long-standing tradition of celebrating the solstice, one which predated even Lurlinism, and that there was no harm in their continued celebration of the holiday, was guaranteed to get Father's goat. He had surprised her though, as sometimes even Frex could do, and engaged her, maybe even indulged her, in debate on the subject, scarcely even acknowledging Nessa's disapproval of the discussion.

(Scarcely acknowledging it, anyway, apart from a smile which made clear where his feelings really lay.)

It had been terribly condescending of him, on the whole, but it had made Elphaba happier than she had felt in a long time, for he had nonetheless indulged her, and told her that she debated brilliantly and must make an excellent politician, a real agent of change for Munchkinland when eventually she was Thropp.

Nessa didn't say anything on the subject, but only left the room to pray, and was too busy doing so to speak to Elphaba when she said good-night later.

 


End file.
